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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26783203">A Monster</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ICantBelieveItsNotClaude/pseuds/ICantBelieveItsNotClaude'>ICantBelieveItsNotClaude</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>First Holy Cummunion and Other Obscene Sacraments (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bloodplay, Jehan is technically legal in the state of Louisiana, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Daddy Kink, Murder, Tiefer is a vampire or something adjacent to one, Vampires, dead dove do not eat, eventual forced sub!Tiefer, genuine nasty, intercrural, mentions of boudreaux's butt paste which is the real content warning here, mostly nonsexual urine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:26:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26783203</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ICantBelieveItsNotClaude/pseuds/ICantBelieveItsNotClaude</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew what Tiefer was; somewhere in his mind, he had always known what Tiefer truly was underneath it all.</p><p>Tiefer was a monster.</p><p>And Jehan was his, body and blood, for the rest of his own life.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jehan Prêtre/Emilein Tiefer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Wolf</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Parrain? Can I ask you something?”<b><br/>
</b></p><p>Tiefer looked up from the fish he’d been cleaning on top an ice chest out on the wharf. He was in charge of Jehan and his flu-ridden brother while their mother was out of town all weekend until that evening, caring for her parents. “You just did, p’tit.”</p><p>Jehan folded his arms, shaking slightly, his fists clenched. “I’m being serious.”</p><p>“Mais, fine.” Tiefer put the filet knife down, still kneeling beside the chest. “Shoot.”</p><p>“What the <em>fuck </em>are you?”</p><p>His godfather had the appearance of an old painting – not a painting of a man over a certain age, mind, but a youthful one perfectly captured in time and immortalized with paint and canvas, the image ever unchanging even when the varnish yellows and the canvas pulls taut as years go by. It was uncanny, really, though of course no one seemed to mind or even notice at all (perhaps it was his prematurely white hair that made him seem older.)</p><p>That’s what had raised Jehan’s suspicions at first. He’d come across a picture of his baptism seventeen years ago: his mother and late father smiling as Fr. Tiefer, his godfather and presider at the sacrament, poured water on his forehead. His mother, like all mothers do, had aged since then, but his godfather looked exactly the same. At first, Jehan had simply shrugged it off: obviously, losing the love of her life and raising two boys almost entirely alone did not do the bags under his mother’s eyes or lines on her forehead any favors. Yet Tiefer was older than his mother. Much older. (Jehan had learned that and a new word years ago when he’d overheard his father and Tiefer talking one night: apparently, according to Tiefer, his mother was–or rather had been–jailbait.) Good breeding didn’t get anyone that far and Jehan sorely doubted his godfather could even lay claim to such a thing.</p><p>But of course Jehan couldn’t just ask his mother, his poor sweet mother who worked herself to the bone so that him and his brother could have a happy, healthy, almost-normal childhood like everyone else even without their father (God rest his soul) in their lives, why she looked as old as if not older than his allegedly forty-eight year old godfather. You just didn’t do some things.</p><p>Nor could he ask his mother who so very dearly loved Tiefer, the man who had been his late father’s best friend and who had done so much for her and for their family and who in Jehan’s mother’s eyes was practically a living saint, his poor sweet deluded mother, why it was that Fr. Emilein Tiefer, a habitual smoker and allegedly forty-eight year old man with a habit of never refusing a drink, could not only physically overpower him, a mostly physically healthy seventeen year old, on a regular basis but also constantly go more rounds than and outlast him, an admittedly horny hormonal teenage boy, in bed.</p><p>(Because that would mean telling his mother, his poor, sweet, stupid mother, that Tiefer had been sexually abusing him ever since he was twelve and, well. You just didn’t do some things.)</p><p>So Jehan waited. And watched. And made note of how often, when they were in bed together, Tiefer used a knife on him to split his skin and let his blood flow and how frequently Tiefer cleaned the blade with his tongue and kissed the wound (and always wanted more, as if he craved it, as if the food he regularly consumed were made of nothing but cotton candy); of how close Tiefer’s fingers would get to the holy water but never touched it when he made the sign of the cross upon entering church; of how his lips never seemed to touch the chalice and how he always used an altar cloth to hold the consecrated host – the host which he always seemed to ‘take’ when kneeling behind the altar, a motion that hid to the congregation whether he’d actually taken it or palmed it, a motion that any of the altar boys would have missed if they weren’t looking (but Jehan most definitely was.) And Jehan realized things weren’t adding up.</p><p>Or, rather, they were adding up, in their own terrifying, insane, inhuman way.</p><p>“<em>Excuse </em>me?”</p><p>“I said what the fuck are you?”</p><p>Maybe it was stupid, Jehan realized, as his godfather whom he had known for seventeen long years, whom he had practically been raised by, with whom he routinely (albeit not totally willingly) shared a bed, stared at him blankly. Maybe he was going mad. Monsters weren’t real – the only real monsters were flesh and blood humans. Maybe everything he’d thought and planned was for nothing.</p><p>Maybe he shouldn’t have asked his abusive godfather what the fuck he was while he was using an incredibly sharp, incredibly lethal knife.</p><p>“Should’ve known it’d be you.” Tiefer huffed with the inconvenienced air of a child caught sneaking dessert, wiping his gorey hands on his dark trousers, staining them. “You really are just like your daddy.”</p><p>Or maybe, Jehan realized at the same moment he felt his stomach drop through the floor, his godfather <em>was </em>a fucking vampire.</p><p>“I–what?”</p><p>“Mais yeah, boy, why you think he’s fuckin’ dead?”</p><p>“Wait–you killed him?!”</p><p>Tiefer frowned.“Well I didn’t mean to rip his throat out but accidents happen. You know I love your daddy–he even gave me his blood–but he was gonna tell, he was gonna ruin everything I busted my ass for!”</p><p>“But they said dad drowned! You, you found him…” Jehan’s eyes widened. His body trembled and he had to – had to – keep his fists clenched, his being composed. “You fucking put him there!”</p><p>“Drove him out past town, to the house I took you that one long weekend – you remember that, don’tcha p’tit cher? – and tied his body under the pilings for a few days until the bayou rotted him nice an’ good, then made it look like he’d had an accident fishing further up the bayou. Real easy when you know what you’re doing.”</p><p>“You…fucking monster!”</p><p>Tiefer rolled his eyes. “Thought you figured that out already. Ain’t that why you’re here?”</p><p>“I…” It was, it had been, he even had something of a plan – he just hadn’t expected to need it. “I thought…”</p><p>“You thought you were crazy?”</p><p>“That or wrong.”</p><p>Tiefer laughed, sitting down fully on the wharf and leaning back. “You fuckin’ came out here, fuckin’ dick half hard an’ guns blarin’, with the goddamn balls to ask <em>me </em>what the fuck <em>I </em>am, and you weren’t even convinced? Fuck, maybe you ain’t as smart as your daddy after all!” He paused, eyes still alight. “Then again, Nate did think I was a rougarou at first so maybe none of y’all got much brains to pass ‘round.”</p><p>“You still haven’t answered my question, parrain.” His tone surprised even him.</p><p>It definitely surprised Tiefer whose expression soured. “Boy, I don’t gotta do shit for you!” he barked. “Go ‘head, my sweet stupid little boy, tell yo’ parrain what the fuck you think he is.”</p><p>“A vampire.”</p><p>It sounded as stupid aloud as it did in his head all those times he’d thought it, but his plan hinged on it, and by the way his godfather’s – the monster’s – sneer faded, it wasn’t as stupid as it sounded.</p><p>“Well. You ain’t wrong,” he said, finally, as he stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles, and fished for a cigarette in his pocket, before snapping: “Go get me my lighter. ‘S on the kitchen counter.”</p><p>“…is that supposed to be an answer?”</p><p>“Get me my lighter.”</p><p>“Are you a fucking vampire?!”</p><p>“<em>Jehan</em>.”</p><p>Fuming, Jehan turned and went back into the house. Minutes later, he returned, lighter in one hand, the other still clenched. Tiefer remained where he sat, his unlit cigarette between his lips. Jehan held out the lighter and got a stare in return.</p><p>“I got your damn lighter.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Tiefer took the cigarette from his mouth. “I can see that.”</p><p>“I want answers.”</p><p>“And I want a blowjob an’ world fuckin’ peace. Gimme a fuckin’ light.”</p><p>“Not until you tell me everything.”</p><p>“Light then answers, babydoll,” Tiefer said, uncrossing his legs. “C’mon, you know you can’t tell a good story without a smoke.” He slid the cigarette between his lips and waited, splayed on the wharf.</p><p>Tentative, Jehan stepped forward between his legs and leaned forward, flicking the lighter. Tiefer watched him, unblinking, as he lit his cigarette, slight tremors–from fear or anger, it was hard to tell–causing his hand to shake. Once the cigarette was lit, Jehan stepped back, about to pull his arm away, and found himself in a vice grip. Tiefer’s fingers circled around not the wrist whose hand held the lighter but his clenched fist. Twisting his wrist and tugging him down, Tiefer pulled Jehan in his lap, grabbed him around the forearms and chest and held him still, cigarette undisturbed.</p><p>“So,” Tiefer hissed around the cigarette clenched in his back teeth, his lips ghosting the back of Jehan’s neck, incisors grazing flesh, “what’ve you been keeping from your dear parrain?”</p><p>“Nothing!”</p><p>“Don’t look like nothing. I won’t ask again, <em>Jehan</em>.”</p><p>“I told you–fuck!”</p><p>He forced Jehan’s wrist back as he took the cigarette from his lips, taking a long drag, before letting go of Jehan’s wrist and putting the cigarette out on his hand, forcing a yelp from his mouth and his hand to release its grip. A communion wafer fell to Jehan’s lap.</p><p>“For someone so hellbent on answers, you sure seem confident with your Dracula guess, boy.”</p><p>“You weren’t taking it. I saw– in Mass, you never – at least, you look like you never–”</p><p>“Fuck, you really do got some huge fuckin’ balls if you thought you could just waltz on up here, boy, an’ take me out with a fuckin’ cracker,” Tiefer sneered and kissed the back of Jehan’s neck, the hand that had held Jehan’s wrist patting his chest lightly. “Well. Not literally. You’re kinda small. Not that I mind.” His hand slid down Jehan’s stomach and between his legs. “It’s actually a turn on…”</p><p>“Don’t…”</p><p>“You want answers, I want something too.”</p><p>“I gave you a fuckin’ light–”</p><p>“And then I had to waste it because a certain ungrateful fuckin’ brat who fancies himself a goddamn demonslayer right here decided he was too good to obey his parrain.” He relaxed his grip some, both hands coming down to undo the fly of Jehan’s jeans. “So what’re we gonna do ‘bout that, hmm?”</p><p>“This.”</p><p>Jehan’s hand found the handle of the filet knife and he plunged it backwards, driving it deep through Tiefer’s right eye and dragging it down, the blade sliding through his skin like butter and lodging in the delicate bones and tissues of his eye socket. Tiefer howled and released his godson, his fingers scrambling to grab hold of the knife and staunch the flow of dark blood that was streaming down his cheek and into his mouth, staining his yellowed teeth a rotting crimson. Jehan scrambled to get out of his godfather’s grip and turned around only to see Tiefer’s good eye on him and mouth split into a nasty, bloody grin.</p><p>“My poor, sweet Jehan…” Tiefer’s lips curled into a pained snarl as he slowly pulled the blade out, gore and blood hitting the wooden planks with a wet, fleshy plop. “This really must be new to you…like your first time all over again, ain’t it?” Even before the tip of the blade slid out of the wound, the flesh and sinew had already begun repairing itself. “Don’t worry.” He stood up and dropped the knife, stepping slowly towards Jehan. “I’ll be gentle.”</p><p>Jehan lunged for the knife but Tiefer kicked it off the side of the wharf and it sank down, fast. Scrambling, Jehan’s hand closed around the communion wafer he had dropped as Tiefer grabbed for him and he shoved it into his almost-healed eye, grinding the host into the wound which split open, immediately, blood pouring fresh and hot.</p><p>“You fucking bastard!”</p><p>Tiefer violently scrubbed the blood and crushed host from his sliced eye, blood trickling down into his mouth. The wound had mostly closed but the host had left its mark: his eye was damaged and the skin would be scarred. Half-blind, Tiefer grabbed Jehan by his shoulders, nails digging into his skin through the thin material of his shirt, and slammed him down onto the splintering wooden planks, pinning him under him.</p><p>“Let me go!”</p><p>“You’re fucking lucky I don’t rip your fucking throat out right here, boy!” Tiefer spat, his own blood dripping from his lips as he tightened his hold on Jehan’s thin shoulders, bruising him. “But what a waste that would be…” He leaned down and kissed Jehan, teeth scraping his lips and blood dripping from his marred cheeks onto Jehan’s, who turned his head in a vain attempt to pull away. Tiefer only kissed him harder, pressing against him.</p><p>“Please don’t–” Jehan gasped once Tiefer pulled away only to kiss his throat, his teeth dangerously sharp and the threat still hanging heavy in the air. And if he really was a vampire… “Please–what’re you going to do…to me?”</p><p>Tiefer sat up, straddling Jehan’s hips, and his lips split into a nasty, bloody grin. “Nothing I haven’t done to you already.” He kept one hand squarely on Jehan’s chest, holding him still with a strength no human should have had, while the other wrenched open the fly to his jeans and shoved them down. “But after your little stunt, I really ain’t in the mood to be gentle…”</p><p>Despite it being broad daylight, Tiefer took him against splintering wood and covered in drying blood, hellbent on forcing from Jehan every choked sob and plea he could. If anyone had come up the bayou and passed by or if Jehan’s brother, sick with the flu, had wandered out onto the porch or out the front door in search of his brother or guardian, they would have been caught; at this point, however, their sordid intimate secret seemed so infinitely small. He had his teeth at his godson’s throat and both of their blood in his mouth and his secret laid bare and irretractable (both inevitabilities and yet regrettably so soon) – that fact that his cock was deep inside of his own pseudo-son hardly mattered to Tiefer (not that it ever really mattered before, in the moral sense.)</p><p>“Get up.” Tiefer’s voice seemed a mile away to Jehan who lay there, aching, spent, face wet from tears and blood, his gaze somewhere far off, until a hard slap dragged him back to the splinters digging into his back and bite marks along his throat and semen dripping out from between his thighs. “Up.” He was already standing, clothes straightened up and neat (albeit bloody), with an expression that seemed to alternate between disgust and impatience. “C’mon, Jehan, you said you wanted answers, yeah?”</p><p>Jehan nodded weakly and slowly picked himself up, fumbling with his clothes. Tiefer grabbed him by the wrist, ignoring that his pants were still undone, and dragged him up to the house. “Go clean yourself. I’ll get your clothes.”</p><p>“But what if my–”</p><p>“Your brother seeing you like this won’t matter. Now go.”</p><p>Silent, Jehan obeyed, hobbling into the house and down the hall to the bathroom. Tiefer went to Jehan’s bedroom, grabbing a spare change of clothes that he set aside, along with a few more changes of clothing, and a duffle bag he had under his bed. Shoving the clothes inside, he left the bedroom and dropped the bag and the spare clothes outside the bathroom. When the shower turned off, Tiefer handed Jehan his clothes, and began packing his toiletries. Once Jehan was dressed and Tiefer had finished packing and returned, having thrown the duffle bag into the back of his truck, he led Jehan down the hallway to the bedroom where his brother was fast asleep.</p><p>“You wanted answers, yeah? You wanted to know what I am?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Then let me show you.”</p><p>Tiefer slaughtered Jehan’s kid brother in front of him, draining him of blood and leaving his corpse mangled where it lie in the boy-sized bed. They waited together for Agnes to come home; Tiefer was kind enough to slit her throat with the sharpest knife in the kitchen the second she walked in the door, far before she could ever see her second-born’s body, and left her mostly intact and with dignity. “She was my friend,” he said just as simply as one would comment on the weather as he placed her body gently in her bed, almost like she had fallen asleep. The image of his mother, peaceful, merely asleep if not for the gash in her throat, stayed burned in Jehan’s mind as they drove off in Tiefer’s truck further and further way on down the road, just far enough out of town, towards the house that Tiefer had taken him to once before on a long weekend where he had raped him over and over and could have left him, could have killed him – where he had killed his father years earlier – where he didn’t want to imagine how many people met their deaths.</p><p>“So,” Tiefer’s voice, heavy from the fresh cigarette he had dangling between his fingers on the steering wheel, cut through the static of his mind and the mindless hum of the radio, “do you know now what the fuck I am?”</p><p>Jehan didn’t reply. He knew what Tiefer was; somewhere in his mind, he had always known what Tiefer truly was underneath it all.</p><p>
  <em>Tiefer was a monster.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which they work somethin' out</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em>Get your bag and get out</em>.”</p><p>They’d pulled up to the old house after what felt like hours, maybe even a lifetime, later, but in reality was at most fifteen minutes. The sun was just beginning to set, the glare off the windshield making Jehan almost grateful they’d arrived at the dry-rotted shell of a home. Almost. It looked like a corpse, empty, filthy, and dark, and as he slid off the seat and out the truck, duffle bag in hand, and silently hobbled behind Tiefer down the overgrown lot and up the decaying porch steps, Jehan felt more and more like he was walking right into his future: a dirty, rotting corpse.</p><p>Part of him welcomed it.</p><p>“Watch your step,” Tiefer said as he pushed the front door open and stepped inside, “the floorboards’re  fucked. Too much blood.”</p><p>The wood was too dark to tell either way, in Jehan’s opinion. He wouldn’t have been surprised if they turned out to all be blood soaked, along with the rest of the house. The last time they had been here, there’d been very little in the way of furniture (at least in the rooms he had been allowed to go inside) – in fact, besides a dingy mattress that looked as if it had been there since the forties and a bed frame that looked even older, the only things in the house were a busted-up icebox, the commode, tub, sink and other such fixtures not so easily removed. Now was no different. The house was a skeleton, the last bits of flesh hanging on by a prayer at this point, home to dust and bugs alone.</p><p>Tiefer led him into the back room, the one with the mattress and skeletal bedframe. “Put your bag in here.”</p><p>Jehan, however, stayed frozen in the doorway.</p><p>“You deaf now?”</p><p>Jehan didn’t respond, his gaze flickering between his godfather and the bed. The last time he’d seen it…</p><p>Sneering, Tiefer yanked the bag out of Jehan’s hand and threw it in the corner. “Keep disobeying me and I’ll make last time you was here look like fuckin’ Christmas. Understand?”</p><p>Jehan nodded which earned him a slap across the face and his back shoved against the doorframe as Tiefer grabbed him by the jaw, squeezing hard. “You ain’t dumb, boy, speak up.”</p><p>“Y-yes.”</p><p>“Yes <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“Yes sir!”</p><p>Tiefer let him go. “That’s better.” He pushed past him, heading back to what had once been a kitchen. “And you better get used to this dump, babydoll, whether you like it or not,” he called back, rummaging through what had assumedly once been a kitchen drawer, “‘cause thanks to you, we’re gonna be here for a little while.”</p><p>“Thanks to me?”</p><p>A snort. “Well yeah, sugar,” Tiefer said as he pulled a scrap of paper and a pencil out of the drawer, looking up as Jehan stepped into the former kitchen, “you’re the fuckin’ moron who had to go and blow my cover.”</p><p>“I–You killed– ” Jehan felt his face getting hot, his mother and brother’s corpses – or what was left of them – still too bright in his mind. “I didn’t do anything!”</p><p>Tiefer merely pointed to his freshly scarred up eye. “Oh really?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t have told – I never told what you’d been doing, you know I can keep a secret! You know!” He was starting to cry, he could feel it. “You know and you killed them anyway you fucking bastard!”</p><p>“Now Jehan, is that any way to talk to your parrain?”</p><p>There was silence for just a moment as Jehan stared at Tiefer, a mix of disbelief and rage in his eyes, before he lunged at him, screaming. Tiefer caught him around the waist and kneed him in the gut before slamming him down on the floorboards.</p><p>“Didn’t know you’d be ready for round two so soon,” he sneered as he kneeled down,pinning Jehan to the floor. “I’m sure you’d love to go back to that bedroom just like last time and let me split you open like the little cock-hungry slut you are, yeah?”</p><p>“No, please–”</p><p>“<em>Just </em>no?”</p><p>“No sir!” Jehan grabbed Tiefer by the wrist, trying to pry him off as he begged, “N-no sir, please, no no no, I’ll be good, please don’t…please don’t do that, please, parrain,” he sniffled, the tears coming freely, his speech tripping over itself. “You know I won’t tell, I’ve never told, I never will, I-I’m a good boy, you know that, you know I can be good, please, I’ll make something up, I’ll never tell, please, sir, we can all go back to normal just please, let me go…just let me go home.”</p><p>Tiefer leaned down, pushing Jehan’s bangs from his eyes. “Oh Jehan…” He kissed him on the forehead, almost caring, before kissing him again on the lips “Look around you: this is your new normal.” He sat back on his haunches, giving Jehan space to breathe. “I am your home now.”</p><p>The quiet between them was only punctuated by soft, wet gasps and the occasional sniffle as Jehan tried to calm down where he lay, until finally his response came out, hoarse and harsh:</p><p>“Wish you weren’t.”</p><p>Tiefer narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be ungrateful. Your mama taught you better.”</p><p>“Yeah well she’s dead now, isn’t she?” Jehan knew he was vulnerable, still lying on the floor, on his back, while Tiefer essentially straddled him, but it was too hard to care anymore. “You killed her, you killed my entire family, and I wish you’d just  kill me too.” He wanted to go home, or heaven or hell or anywhere – just not here, not with him. “<em>Please</em>. That grateful enough for you?”</p><p>It earned him a huff and then a sharp smack across the face. “Boy, if I wanted you dead, I’d have killed you the second you asked what the fuck I was.” Tiefer smirked, his face lit up by the setting sun as it filtered in through the broken windows and cracks in the boards, his teeth glinting in the light. “Nah…I got something much more fun in mind for you…”</p><p>Jehan swallowed thickly. “You’re not…” God his teeth were sharp, he hadn’t realized just how sharp they were. Or, he realized with a sickening turn of his gut, how long eternity with this monster might just be. “You’re not gonna make me like you, are you?”</p><p>Those same teeth were just as sharp in laugh as a smirk. “Believe me, honey, if I could turn humans into what I am, I wouldn’t be wasting my sweet time with you – I’d’ve changed your father years ago, made him my eternal lover. Oh don’t make that face, boy,” he added at Jehan’s look of disgust and horror, “your daddy liked men too. Or, well,” his face fell, “he liked me too. On my knees at least. Your mama got everything, the lucky cunt.”</p><p>“God you’re disgusting…”</p><p>“You should be used to it, an’ if you ain’t, well, you better get fuckin’ used to it. We might not have eternity together but you’re damn sure stuck with me until the day you die.”</p><p>Jehan groaned. “Well if you don’t want to kill me and can’t turn me then why can’t you just let me go?”</p><p>“Your blood. And your body.” Tiefer paused and then let out a giggle. “Kinda like Jesus.”</p><p>“Which makes you kinda like a vampire.”</p><p>“You said vampire; I said you ain’t wrong.” Tiefer shrugged before scooting off Jehan and standing up. “Didn’t say you was right,” he said as he grabbed the paper and pencil he’d taken out the drawer earlier and began writing. “It’s more like a blood disease. Mama had it, my sister had it, I got it…”</p><p>“You told me your mother died,” Jehan said, standing slowly. “Your whole family was dead.”</p><p>“Yup. Just like yours!” He pursed his lips, scratched out a line, and then continued, slower now. “My mama killed herself and my sister…well…” He gestured over to where they’d first walked in, the area with the too-rotted floorboards. “I had had enough of that cunt. But don’t get no ideas though, baby – all them deaths were by a monster’s hand. You? You can’t kill me.”</p><p>Jehan was quiet as Tiefer continued to write, pencil scratching loudly in the silence. “But I can hurt you,” he muttered into the stillness.</p><p>The scratching stopped.</p><p>“Yes,” Tiefer said, finally, the levity gone, replaced by something cold. “I suppose you can.” His hand came up to his cheek, feeling the scar. He turned back, regarding Jehan for a long while with his now only one working eye. Eventually he resumed writing and, not even half a minute later, he held the pencil out for Jehan. “Sign this.”</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“Your confession. Gotta cover our tracks somehow.”</p><p>Jehan took the pencil in his hand but didn’t step any closer.</p><p>“Well?” Tiefer gestured to the paper. “You ain’t got eternity.”</p><p>“I could stab your other eye out.” His voice was soft. “I could ram this through your throat. I could hurt you.”</p><p>“You forget one little tiny detail, Jehan,” came Tiefer’s reply, almost far away to Jehan’s ears, “That host is what kept my eye from healing completely. The filet knife alone ain’t nothing, an’ it’d still be nothing if not for God’s little saving grace you stole. Here? Just you try an’ find God here, Jehan,” he sneered as he grabbed Jehan by the back of his neck and shoved him forward toward the counter. “I promise, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”</p><p>Jehan considered Tiefer silently, fist balled tight around the pencil. He was right – the pencil would hurt, sure, but then what? Only holy items seemed to do anything at all, and the last thing he wanted was Tiefer mad at him. He was stuck.</p><p>“Whatever,” he scowled and snatched the paper up – he caught tidbits of his alleged confession, <em>I’m so sorry, I had no other choice, I can’t keep going, Don’t look for my body</em> – scrawling his name at the bottom before throwing the pencil and paper down. “Happy?”</p><p>“Good boy.” Tiefer ran his fingers through Jehan’s hair, kissing the top of his head. His fingers loosened from the back of Jehan’s neck only to slide down and around to his throat, gripping him tight.</p><p>Too tight.</p><p>“Unfortunately, I can’t trust you to behave while I’m gone.”</p><p>“G-gone?”</p><p>“To deliver your confession to the sheriff, of course.”</p><p>“No–”</p><p>Tiefer squeezed harder, cutting off his air completely. “You’ll be dead to the world, Jehan.”</p><p>The last image in Jehan’s eyes was his godfather, eyes alight, teeth sharp as daggers, with his hands around his throat before everything went dark.</p>
<hr/><p>When Jehan awoke, it was to an almost pitch darkness, if not for the moonlight filtering through some of the busted boards in the wall. It was also to the alarming realities that his wrists were bound above his head, he was naked from the waist down, and there was a sharp pain at his throat accompanied by a very warm, heavy weight on his chest. So he did all he could do: he kicked and screamed.</p><p>“<em>Jehan</em>.”</p><p>And immediately went limp because he had just kicked at his godfather. His terrifying, essentially a vampire, godfather who, upon sitting up, Jehan could make out blood smeared on his mouth. <em>His </em>blood.</p><p>“Sorry–I didn’t mean–I didn’t know, parrain–”</p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>Jehan felt hands on his hips, positioning him on his side as much as possible, and he couldn’t help but shake.</p><p>“Please don’t, I’m sorry, please don’t, please–”</p><p>“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” There was nothing questioning about it, more a barked order than anything. Moonlight crossed Tiefer’s face, illuminating a twisted mix of need and frayed concentration in his expression. “Tilt your head back and keep your thighs together. Ain’t got time to prep you.”</p><p>Jehan did as he was told, swallowing hard, his heart racing – he wasn’t stupid, he knew that what Tiefer did with him needed more than what he’d need if Jehan had a woman’s parts, he knew logically that it would hurt if he didn’t prepare him and that the only reason he’d been spared that brutality before was because Tiefer didn’t need his mother finding out (but she was dead so now Tiefer had free reign, didn’t he?) – when he felt something warm and wet deep between his thighs, followed by something harder, and his godfather pressed against him, leaning over him.</p><p>“Stay still,” he hissed against Jehan’s ear, teeth grazing the soft skin of his cheek and then his throat as he moved along skin, tracing muscle and veins. “Be good.” Tiefer bit him anew, lightly at first and then harder, breaking skin, blood smearing his lips all while he fucked his thighs, never slowing, like an addict needing a fix.</p><p>Jehan tried his best to stay still, his face screwed up in the darkness and his fingers wrapped around the tightly knotted fabric that held him in place, as his godfather drank his blood and effectively masturbated with his body. He was partly relieved – the panic at being entered with nothing more than spit (if he’d have even been that lucky) dissipated completely, only to be replaced with an equally white-hot fear when he had felt teeth at his throat. It had hurt, it still hurt, but he couldn’t help but feel a bittersweet twinge of gratitude when he felt his godfather’s hard cock press against his limp own with each thrust, knowing it could be so much worse.</p><p>It wasn’t long before Tiefer came, sticky and hot between Jehan’s thighs. Usually he lasted much longer – and Jehan realized he must have been using his body long before he had woke up, if the earlier sting of bites on his throat and blood on his godfather’s lips was anything to go by, though it wouldn’t explain why he hadn’t the time to prep him if that was the case – he’d obviously had all the time in the world to make him the perfect little fucktoy. Still, Jehan couldn’t be too terribly upset: he was still sore from their time on the wharf; he’d gladly prefer a mess on his thighs.</p><p>Tiefer kissed him, smearing his lips with blood, before pulling away. The sound of fabric and a belt clinking followed, then footsteps and creaking boards, slowly dissipating only to reappear moments later.</p><p>“Eat.”</p><p>Fingers and something soft pressed against his lips.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“Shit.” Jehan could practically hear the sneer in his voice. “It’s bread, idiot, now eat.”</p><p>Jehan did as he was told, slowly eating out of Tiefer’s hand. When he was finished, Tiefer’s hands moved to his own, beginning to untie the binds on his wrists.</p><p>“What do we say?”</p><p>“I need to piss.”</p><p>“You need to learn some fuckin’ manners, brat, or next time it really will be shit.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Jehan replied before hurriedly adding, “sir.”</p><p>“That’s better.” Tiefer finished untying his wrists. “Go clean yourself up.”</p><p>Jehan sat up, rubbing his wrists, and looked around. “I…I can’t see.”</p><p>A sigh. “Right. Fuck.” Footsteps again, then distant cursing. The creak of the floorboards and returning footsteps were accompanied by a dim light, as Tiefer returned, an old candle in hand illuminating the hall and doorway. In the light, his eyes (or what was left of them) were as red as the blood smeared down his face, though his gaze was distant, hungry. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”</p><p>He lead Jehan down the hall to what remained of the bathroom. A few roaches scuttled off as the light poured into the room. Tiefer balanced the candle on the sink and turned on the tub faucet. It gurgled, rust coming out with the water in wet plops against the ceramic bottom. “You ain’t gonna wanna sit in that. Just use your hands. Here.” He threw Jehan a moth-eaten towel and, thankfully, gave him privacy (for once.)</p><p>The privacy didn’t much matter as Jehan realized, after cleaning off the spit and semen between his legs and the dried blood on his throat, that Tiefer hadn’t returned his pants or even underwear. He tugged his shirt back on and, holding the towel in front of him, walked out of the bathroom.</p><p>“Parrain?”</p><p>“Kitchen.”</p><p>Jehan followed his voice, candle in hand, going the opposite way he had come, to find Tiefer leaning against the old cabinets, smoking. A few candles sat on top the busted icebox, illuminating the room. The cigarette in his hand was down to the filter.</p><p>“Uhm…where’re my pants?”</p><p>“You don’t need them. Not while we’re in here. Don’t need that fuckin’ towel either. In fact, drop it.”</p><p>“But–”</p><p>“Clothing’s a fuckin’ privilege,” Tiefer snapped, “an’ if you keep pushin’ it, y’ain’t gonna have no shirt either, got it?”</p><p>Jehan frowned, fingers bunching up in the ratty towel before wadding it up and throwing it at Tiefer’s feet.</p><p>“Much better – what a good little boy,” Tiefer added, a nasty smile on his lips as he took a long last drag, sucking all he could out of the burning filter before throwing it to the ground, stomping it out. “An’ don’t you even think ‘bout putting your hands in the way either. Ruins the view.”</p><p>“Pervert.”</p><p>“Oh go cry to your mommy about it,” Tiefer sneered, picking up his carton of cigarettes and fishing inside for another smoke. His face fell. “You’re fucking shitting me!” The carton went soaring across the room, narrowly missing Jehan’s head. “I thought I had one more – fuck! God, fuckin’ – fuck, your stupid brother–”</p><p>“The fuck does my brother have to do with that?”</p><p>“Your stupid fucking brother and his stupid fucking body full of stupid fucking blood, that’s fucking what!” He cursed again, slamming his fist against the wooden countertop. It splintered. He slumped against it, a fraught exhaustion wracking his body. “Fuck, I knew this shit’d fucking happen…fuck!”</p><p>Jehan stepped closer, warily. “What…happened?”</p><p>Tiefer’s head snapped up, a manic glint in his eyes. “Come here, Jehan.”</p><p>“No! The fuck is going on?!”</p><p>Tiefer cocked his head, as if shocked that Jehan wouldn’t obey, before a nasty grin split his mouth. “Come to daddy,” he snarled and lunged for Jehan, snatching him by his shirt despite Jehan’s attempts to flee, and, grabbed him around the middle, hoisting him onto the frail cabinets. His hands gripped Jehan’s thighs, spreading them and trapping Jehan’s squirming body between the countertop and his own body. “Thought I told you earlier to be good, didn’t I?”</p><p>“Let go!”</p><p>“You ain’t in any position to be giving me orders, brat. I could’ve left you tied up on that bed.”</p><p>Jehan stilled. “I was…” His eyes went wide. Being blind in the dark and disoriented, he hadn’t realized, though he should have… “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“The fuck you are. Show me you’re sorry – keep your hands still.”</p><p>“What’re you gonna do to me?”</p><p>“Whatever the fuck I want! Now keep your hands still!”</p><p>Jehan complied, shaking, and watched as Tiefer got to his knees and pulled Jehan forward to the edge of the counter, his breath warm against his thighs. He bit him once, twice, capillaries letting blood trickle out only to be lapped up, hungrily. Jehan tried to keep still despite the pain, but he couldn’t help the jolt that went through him when he felt lips and tongue, warm and hot – blood hot – on his cock, wrapping around the head before taking him whole. He whimpered, hands coming up to his mouth and hips rocking involuntarily as Tiefer sucked his cock greedily, his hands warm and heavy on Jehan’s thighs, nails digging into his skin.</p><p>“Parrain…I’m gonna…” It didn’t take him long at all – not with how Tiefer took him entirely down his throat, how he swirled his tongue around the tip – but Tiefer never pulled away, instead swallowing every drop like a man denied water in the desert as Jehan came down his throat. Tiefer still didn’t pull away. “Parrain…please…it’s too much…stop…” His fingers wound in Tiefer’s hair – accompanied by a hurried “I’m sorry!” –  and pulled him off. “You’re hurting me.”</p><p>Tiefer wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a mix of saliva, blood, and cum shining on his lips. “More,” he breathed, standing shakily, and Jehan could see the outline of his cock in his pants. “Now…”</p><p>He pulled Jehan off the counter, grabbing him by his hair and forcing him to his knees. “Don’t bite,” he ordered as he undid his belt and fly, pulling himself free and pressing the head of his cock to Jehan’s lips.</p><p>Not that Jehan had to be told twice or even at all – he knew what Tiefer liked, knew how to do it, and knew, by the terrifying look in his eyes, that he better behave. He gagged, unable to take Tiefer far into his mouth, but it didn’t seem to matter what he could or could not do – Tiefer grabbed his jaw with one hand, the back of his head with the other, and forced himself farther down his throat despite the keening whine and gagged coughs. He fucked his face even as Jehan tried to push him off, succeeding only in getting a few seconds to breathe before his jaw was forced open again and his throat was abused once more. They kept on like this for what felt like forever for Jehan, splinters digging in his knees, no end in sight, until finally Tiefer pulled away on his own, his cock still hard.</p><p>“Hands and knees. Now.”</p><p>“If it’s the cigarettes, we can get more tomorrow, please–”</p><p>Tiefer laughed, a genuine terrifying sound, his eyes red in the low light. “The fucking cigarettes!” He laughed again, a twisted, toothy grin on his face, blood drying on his lips, before he kicked Jehan in the ribs, knocking him to the floor. “That’s fuckin’ cute, you think this is ‘bout cigarettes. Oh you stupid little boy…” He knelt down, grabbing Jehan by his hips and propping him up on his knees, shoving his face down into the floorboards. “This is so much more than that…”</p><p>“Parrain, please, whatever it is, I’m sorry…”</p><p>“Oh p’tit, I’m sorry too.” Tiefer spat in his hand, sliding his fingers between Jehan’s legs, forcing a finger inside him. He pulled out, fast, and spat again, this time slicking up his own cock. “Because this is gonna hurt like hell.”</p><p>Jehan screamed when he pushed inside of him and kept on screaming with every thrust, screamed and sobbed until his throat gave out, fingernails ripping against the floorboards as he tried to pull himself away while Tiefer fucked him relentlessly, desperate to satiate something that had been disturbed.</p><p>At some point, surely, he had to have come – inside of him, as Jehan would later find out – but by that time Jehan had long since passed out, too exhausted, too broken.</p>
<hr/><p>“Here.”</p><p>Jehan awoke to Tiefer’s voice followed by something small, hard, and pointed hitting him on his head before falling and landing on his chest. It was light outside, the room brightly illuminated by the midday sun. He was in the bedroom, curled up on the mattress, and his hands were bound, His stomach turned. At least he’d been given back his underwear.</p><p>“What’d you just throw me?”</p><p>“Something to help you out.” Tiefer said from above him. He stood over the head of the bed, untying his hands from the bedframe. In his mouth was a cigarette.</p><p>Once one of Jehan’s wrists was free, he grabbed the tube off his chest, turning it over to read the side. “You got me Boudreaux’s Buttpaste?”</p><p>“Why not? Works on babies’ assholes,” Tiefer shrugged. “Figure’d it’d help.” He finished untying Jehan’s other hand before reaching down and putting a small shopping bag on the dirty mattress. “There’s some other stuff in there that should take care of you.” He headed out the doorway, calling back as he left: “Use it or not, I don’t care, but I imagine you’re sore as hell after last night…”</p><p>Jehan stared after him, the tube of Boudreaux’s Buttpaste still in hand, before reaching for the bag. There were lotions, creams, some sort of enema and cleaning solution, sensitive wipes… Tiefer was usually so careful, he always had been, even when he used his knife against his back he was still so careful, but Jehan could remember, dimly, the night before – the reason his knees were scraped and splintered, his fingernails were busted, his ass felt raw – and it terrified him to get a glimpse of how not careful Tiefer could be last night, and he knew now that Tiefer had no reason to be careful anymore if he didn’t want to be, saw how Tiefer could do anything he wanted to him at any moment.</p><p>And Tiefer chose to buy him goddamn Bouxreaux’s Buttpaste. Well, it was as close to an apology as he would probably ever get.</p><p>He slowly trudged to the bathroom, making use of the toilet and the odd display of Tiefer’s kindness in an effort to dull his discomfort, before following the hallway back to what had been the kitchen.</p><p>Tiefer was at the counter, a loaf of bread and some lunch meat next to him. He tapped his cigarette ash over the sink before returning it to his lips and turned around, plate and sandwich in hand. He held it out for Jehan.</p><p>Jehan just stared at him.</p><p>“It’s one in the afternoon, Jehan, you ain’t had anything for over half a day, besides some bread and precum,” Tiefer added. “I didn’t fuck with it, if you’re worried, it’s just a ham sandwich.”</p><p>Jehan took the offered plate, eyeing his godfather. “Thank you,” he said and took a bite. It <em>was </em>just ham. “Sir,” he added around a mouthful.</p><p>“Whatever.” Tiefer was back against the counter, taking a long drag. Gone was the manic look in his eyes from before. Not that Jehan trusted him – he sat down on the ground as far as he could from Tiefer, his back against the wall, and slowly finished his sandwich.</p><p>“Not to be rude,” he started, pushing the now empty plate away, “but what’s with…well, this?” He waved at the plate. “Or that, back there?”</p><p>“What, rather I’d be mean to you?”</p><p>“No! No, no, God no please, just…after last night…”</p><p>“Mm.” Tiefer didn’t speak for a long moment, instead taking another drag, delicately tapping his cigarette over the sink once again. “About that. I said I didn’t kill you ‘cause I wanted your body an’ your blood. I meant that. Your body, well…you know all too well I have certain…interests.”</p><p>“You mean little boys?”</p><p>“I meant I’m a faggot who likes it rough, smartass!” Tiefer scowled and continued: “Point is, I’d prefer having your body on hand to entertain those interests. Much easier that way.”</p><p>“What you’d prefer is my father.”</p><p>“Ideally.” Tiefer took a long drag. “Instead I got a cheap imitation. But that don’t mean we can’t make do with what we got. I can make it very good, for both of us. You know that.”</p><p>Jehan’s cheeks felt hot. Tiefer had made him beg in the past, willingly, for more – he was terribly skilled at it. “I do…” And given his situation, it did sound good. “But what’s the catch?”</p><p>“Simple: be good.” Tiefer stubbed out his cigarette which had worn down to the filter, grabbed another from his new and mostly full carton, and lit up. “Do as I say when I say it, want me, love me – or at least fake it – and I’ll treat you right.”</p><p>“You mean be your whore.”</p><p>Tiefer shrugged. “Well, if you wanna be nasty ‘bout it…”</p><p>“You don’t need sex, though. Er, do you?”</p><p>Tiefer laughed. “Nah, guess not, but where’s the fun in that?” He took a drag. “No one really does. But…” He pursed his lips. “Know why I did what I did last night?”</p><p>“Because you’re a faggot who likes it rough?”</p><p>“Smartass.” Tiefer took another drag. “The sort of…creature…that I am – that my family was – needs blood. But if we starve ourselves or if we overindulge, it’s…it’s like withdrawals. Too much blood at once an’ sure, we’ll seem fine, but we’ll come crashin’ down later, desperate for anything to stop the hunger. Blood is what we need but when you’re like that, well… You’ll just wanna glut yourself again. Plus, at a certain point, anythin’ helps: sweat, tears, cum, even human addictions. Why you think I was so fucked up over my cigarettes?”</p><p>He paused, taking a drag. “I was able to control myself from rendin’ your pretty little body to pieces thanks to them cigarettes an’ biting your neck an’ ruttin’ between your legs while you slept – thought I’d staved off a total crash – but God your brother had so much blood in him an’ you’d tasted so good but you’d come so fast when I sucked you off, I…I couldn’t rip your throat out, Jehan, I needed you, you get that, don’t you, so I…”</p><p>“So you shoved your dick in me and raped me like a dog.”</p><p>Tiefer sighed, flicking his ashes in the sink. “I did what I had to. I told you I didn’t have time to prep you, to go slow, that’s why I’d only used your thighs before, I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself.”</p><p>“You <em>didn’t </em>control yourself.”</p><p>“I kept you alive.”</p><p>Jehan was silent as Tiefer finished the rest of his cigarette. “What about too little blood?”</p><p>“Same shit, different story. More starvation means more desperation, ‘s all,” Tiefer said, plucking another cigarette out of the carton. He didn’t light it though, just rolled it around in his fingers. “We don’t need much blood to keep from goin’ into withdrawals or Dracula DTs or whatever you wanna call it, but we do need it. Regularly. Why you think I always sliced up your back when we fucked? Don’t say ‘cause I’m a faggot who likes it rough,” he added, pointing his cigarette at Jehan. “The knife let me control myself, control how much I took…My sister, she…she used to glut her fuckin’ face all the time and then when she crashed, well…”</p><p>He lifted his shirt, showing off the long, deep scar along his left hip, one that Jehan used to feel under his hands when Tiefer allowed him a semblance of control when they were in bed (or when Tiefer felt particularly lazy.)</p><p>“Always looked like that hurt,” Jehan said.</p><p>“Like hell.”</p><p>Jehan frowned. “Your knife hurts like hell too, you know.</p><p>“Mm.” Tiefer picked up his lighter. “Well, we can work somethin’ out,” he said with his cigarette between his teeth.</p><p>“What if I don’t wanna? What if I just wanna leave you here to starve?”</p><p>“Go right on ahead.” He lit his cigarette, took a drag, and plucked it from his mouth, his expression sour. “Walk on out that door an’ see how well you enjoy a life in prison, boy, ‘cause I guarantee your asshole ain’t fuckin’ ready for it at all!” Tiefer laughed but there was no joy in it. “People hear what they wanna hear and believe what they wanna believe. When I brought your confession to the sheriff and told him the ungodly scene I’d come upon? He ate that shit up.”</p><p>Tiefer took another drag as he stepped away from the countertop, stalking closer to Jehan.</p><p>“Sure everyone was real sad that poor recently widowed Ms. Agnes and her little boy were slaughtered in cold blood – that town loved your mama, with good reason, the church’ll miss her – but with no leads, no enemies, and a desire for closure? Your confession was exactly what they needed.</p><p>“It’s your choice, p’tit: prison or me. Now I swear to you, I’ll let you walk right on out that door – right there! I’ll even go get you your jeans so you ain’t wanderin’ the swamps in your drawers – shit, I might even drop you off right at your house if you ask nice enough – an’ you can see how far you get before your perky li’l ass is gettin’ traded ‘round a jail cell an’ meetin’ the wrong end of a shank. Or you can be a good, smart little boy an’ stay with your parrain. An’ we can figure somethin’ out – somethin’ real nice. For both of us. Just remember,” – Tiefer stopped right in front of Jehan and bent down, eye level with him. He raised the cigarette to his lips, inhaled, and then blew the smoke right back in Jehan’s face – “You’re a livin’ dead man, Jehan Prêtre.”</p><p>Jehan sat still, silently looking between the door and his godfather with his scarred eye, his still-bloodstained teeth. What good was escape if it meant even less freedom than what Tiefer was offering? This was the devil he knew…and the devil whose throat he could stand on, given the opportunity. He would just have to play nice. Real nice.</p><p>Reaching out, Jehan wrapped his arms around Tiefer’s neck and leaned in, kissing his lips and tasting nicotine and iron.</p><p>“I want a home.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>originally posted 20 may 2018 on tumblr and unbeta'd as ever, just like canon</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which they play house</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em><b>When Jehan kissed his godfather</b></em> and agreed to stay with him – choose him – sure, he didn’t expect Tiefer to embrace him with open arms and suddenly give him free reign to come and go as he pleased, but he thought they would at least be beyond tying him down to the bedframe. Unfortunately, that was just wishful thinking.</p><p>“Parrain, please, you know I won’t leave.”</p><p>“An’ I believe you, baby, I do,” Tiefer said from above him as he tied his wrists to the frame, loose enough that he could move around, at least to roll his feet to the ground and piss in the bucket that Tiefer had dragged in from the yard and left beside the bed. “But I can’t go takin’ any chances. We gotta be careful now if you wanna live like a normal family.”</p><p>“Normal families don’t tie each other to the bed,” Jehan huffed, though he had laid in it willingly. Or, rather, as willingly as he could given the circumstances.</p><p>Tiefer frowned. “Mine did.” He tightened up the ties and then reached up, adjusting the freshly applied bandages he’d placed over his eye – “for appearances,” he’d said when he’d applied it, right before walking Jehan to the back bedroom. “I promise, it won’t be much longer. Just until I can transfer out of this parish, somewhere far from here. Then you won’t have to hide away.” He pouted mockingly. “I’ll just tell the archbishop I’ve been so traumatized with what happened and so grievously injured at the hands of the poor confused godson I cared for so much, he’ll have to grant my request. And if not, well,” a dirty smirk crossed his face, “I’ll just say I fucked a bunch of little boys. They’ll transfer me without a word.”</p><p>Jehan obviously didn’t find it as funny as his godfather did.</p><p> </p><p>“Speaking of little…” Tiefer walked around the bed and grabbed Jehan’s hips, hands on the waistband of his underwear, tugging the cloth down and off his legs.</p><p>“No– wait–”</p><p>“Oh calm down, I’m not gonna touch you,” he huffed. “Ain’t got enough time to enjoy it.” He threw the pair of underwear to the other end of the bed. “Unless you’d rather piss yourself than use that bucket, you ain’t gonna want those on you.”</p><p>“Thanks…I think…” Jehan pouted, obviously preferring the third, unavailable option of an actual toilet but there wasn’t much he could do besides wait it all out: wait out the day, wait out Tiefer’s transition to a different parish, wait out his moods and trust until Jehan could get the upper hand…wait out Tiefer staring between his legs. When Tiefer’s gaze didn’t waver, however, he quickly crossed his legs, pulling his knees up to try and hide himself.</p><p>Unfortunately, it only gave Tiefer a very lovely and direct view of his still-smarting ass–an irony which was not lost on Tiefer, considering the sharp laugh he’d breathed out.</p><p>“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Jehan huffed, his face flushed.</p><p>Tiefer frowned. “Regrettably.” He leaned over Jehan, kissing him lightly on the forehead. “Gotta straighten out my story with my superiors,” he said, petting Jehan’s cheek and then his throat and his chest and his stomach until he reached between his thighs. “An’ then there’s the funeral service.” His fingers wrapped around Jehan’s cock.</p><p>“You said you wouldn’t–”</p><p>“Don’t interrupt, babydoll, that’s very rude,” Tiefer said, baring his teeth. “Like I was sayin’, gotta say the funeral for your mama an’ <em>little </em>baby brother.” He pumped him until he was just hard enough and then slowed, running delicate touches around the head. “Then, of course, I’ll have to tidy up on aaaall my duties that had gone slacking since I was…indisposed…” He glanced down at Jehan’s pink cock, flushed with blood, and grinned, teeth bared as he withdrew his hand. “Fuck you’re so cute, boy…too bad I won’t get a taste for a long while…”</p><p>“Wait–”</p><p>“See you later, Jehan.”</p><p>“No, don’t– Come back!”</p><p>Tiefer all but disappeared in thin air with how fast he seemed to have left the bedroom, crossed the house, and gone out the sorry excuse for a door, leaving Jehan stripped, tied to the bed, and painfully, desperately aroused.</p><p>“Fuck.” He was in for a long day, alone with just his thoughts–thoughts of his (now late) family, his tenuous future with Tiefer, and his way out of all of this hell–and the latest ‘gift’ Tiefer deigned to bestow on him.</p><p>*************************<br/>
Time passed –or at least it had to have considering eventually, with a few less-than-appetizing thoughts, Jehan was no longer in the compromising situation he started in– and eventually Tiefer returned around sunset.</p><p>“Honey I’m home! Did ya miss me?” His voice carried down the dilapidated hallway and announced his arrival in the bedroom moments before he entered, face alight with a smug sort of glee. “Good to see you’re almost just the way I left you.”</p><p>Jehan was far less chipper. “I miss my mother, my father, and my brother; not you,” he replied. “Now let me go, I gotta piss.”</p><p>Tiefer frowned. “Missed you too, sweetie,” he said and nudged the bucket he’d left at Jehan’s bedside with the toe of his boot; the slosh of piss against metal replied. “Well, you obviously ain’t too good to use this.”</p><p>“‘Cause you left me tied to a goddamn bed all day long, what else was I supposed to do?”</p><p>Tiefer shrugged. “Piss yourself.”</p><p>“Look can you untie me so I can piss in the toilet like a goddamn human being?”</p><p>“That any way to ask for a favor?”</p><p>Jehan huffed, an angry desperation that quickly faltered when he met Tiefer’s gaze. “…Please?”</p><p>“Fine.” Tiefer circled to the head of the bed and began untying Jehan, still frowning at him. “I’ll let you go.”</p><p>“Thank you, parrain.” Jehan’s reply came quick, but Tiefer said nothing, expression still sour, until he’d finished untying him and Jehan found himself free to sit up, leave the bed, walk to the door, and–</p><p>“Where you think you’re goin’, boy?”</p><p>So much for Tiefer’s good mood.</p><p>Jehan froze. “The…toilet?”</p><p>“Ain’t you goin’ the wrong way?”</p><p>Jehan turned to look at him. “No?”</p><p>Tiefer pushed the bucket towards Jehan with the toe of his boot.</p><p>“But you said–”</p><p>“I said I’d let you go,” Tiefer replied. “Ain’t said you could use the commode.”</p><p>“Parrain–”</p><p>“Keep trying me, Jehan, and I’ll make sure your only option tomorrow is to piss yourself like the bratty little child you are.”</p><p>Jehan’s cheeks went red and he stepped away from the door. His gaze flitted between the bucket before him and Tiefer a few feet away, leaning against the bedframe, a dead silence hanging in the air.</p><p>It didn’t last long.</p><p>“Thought you needed to piss,” Tiefer drawled. “You know, I’m more than happy to help you with your sorry little excuse for a cock if you’re having trouble.”</p><p>“Can’t you leave? Or at least turn around?”</p><p>“ ‘Fraid not,” Tiefer replied, looking Jehan over and pointedly letting his gaze rest between Jehan’s thighs.</p><p>Scowling, Jehan spat something that sounded suspiciously like “pervert” before closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to meet Tiefer’s gaze and relieving himself in the bucket. When he was done, he didn’t look up but merely stepped back towards the door. “Happy?”</p><p>“I’d be happier if it were my hands on you rather than your own. But…” Stepping away from the bed, Tiefer scooped up the bucket and, as he passed Jehan, emptied it over his head before chucking the bucket aside. “Yeah, I’m happy.”</p><p>“Fuck!”</p><p>Tiefer sneered as he stepped out of the room, glancing back at Jehan, now piss-soaked. “We can do that later. C’mon, I brought home dinner – not that you deserve any.” He laughed and headed down the hallway, calling back: “Wash up first, you fuckin’ reek!”</p><p>Jehan bit back the urge to ask him whose fault that was in the first fucking place.</p><p>************************</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>Those were the first words out of Jehan’s mouth as he walked into the kitchen, freshly clean of piss (or as fresh as he could get given their accommodations.) This new life of his was all just a game. He knew, in order to survive, he had to play nice, real nice, but good God did Tiefer make it difficult sometimes. Like earlier.</p><p>“Oh really?” Cigarette dangling from his mouth, Tiefer looked up from unwrapping the small take out containers from the bag he’d picked up on the way back to the house. His mangled eye was unbandaged. “What’re you sorry for? Besides getting dressed.”</p><p>Or like right now.</p><p>Jehan sighed. “I’m sorry for being a brat.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“And for being rude.”</p><p>“<em>And</em>?”</p><p>“And for…calling you a pervert?”</p><p>“Hm.” Tiefer pursed his lips. “Well I guess if that’s all you want to say sorry for…”</p><p>Jehan had to work to keep his incredulity from showing all over his face as Tiefer was still facing him.</p><p>“Here. Red beans.” Tiefer pulled the lid off a container and chucked a plastic spoon in it before he handed it to Jehan. “Eat up. Once it goes cold, it’s cold. We ain’t got shit in here to reheat it.”</p><p>“Thanks…”</p><p>“Not that you deserve it.”</p><p>Jehan frowned around  spoonful, swallowing hard. “If I don’t deserve it then why bother? We got cold cuts in the icebox.”</p><p>“You’ll be eating cold cuts for the next month until we leave.”</p><p>The spoon fell out of Jehan’s hand. “Excuse me?!”</p><p>Tiefer took a long drag. “I transfer out of here in one”–he held up a finger–”month so until then, we’re stuck here.” He paused, lowering his hand. “Or…well…you’re stuck here. I got my own bed to sleep in–and for appearance’s sake, I really should. Miss havin’ you in it, though…”</p><p>“Fuck that! I’m just supposed to be chained up here for a month?!”</p><p>“No. Not all the time. Just when I’m not around.”</p><p>“Which is starting to sound like all the damn time! Am I supposed to just be tied to that bed and hope you remember to maybe give me some food?”</p><p>Tiefer sneered. “Well maybe then you’ll miss me,” he said, taking another drag.</p><p>Jehan was silent for a moment. His hands shook. Then – screams.</p><p>“THAT’S what this was all about? THAT’S why I couldn’t fucking piss in the toilet–why you dumped it on my fucking HEAD? You’re mad ‘cause I didn’t miss YOU?!”</p><p>Tiefer pursed his lips, cigarette dangling between his fingers. “You done your bratty little tantrum?”</p><p>“No I’m not fucking done, you–you fucking–you fucking monster! I hate you! You’ve taken <em>everything</em> from me!” He threw what was left of the dinner Tiefer had bought him at Tiefer’s feet. So much for playing nice. “Fuck your house, fuck your stupid vampire blood disease bullshit, and fuck you!”</p><p>Slowly, Tiefer put out his cigarette. “You said you wanted a home,” he said, his eyes unblinking on Jehan. “You said you wanted to be with me. A nice, proper little family, you an’ me.”</p><p>“Didn’t have much of a fucking choice now did I, <em>parrain</em>?”</p><p>“I told you I could make this good for the both of us and all you had to do–all you had to fucking do–was be good. You think this bullshit” –he gestured at the spilled container on the ground as he stepped over it, coming face to face with Jehan and towering over him– “is being <em>good</em>?”</p><p>Jehan scowled up at him. “Blow me.”</p><p>Tiefer snarled before grabbing Jehan by the front of his shirt and pulling him up on his tiptoes to meet his eyes. “I didn’t even ask for your fucking love–you’re your daddy’s son, I know better than to expect that,” Tiefer spat. “All I ask is that you fuckin’ fake it, do what I say, and be good, and so far you’re doin’ a piss-poor job.”</p><p>“So get rid of me then,” Jehan replied. “Oh wait, that’s right! You can’t. Because I’m your literal fucking meal ticket. So maybe you should do what I say and I say don’t leave me tied to a bed all goddamn day and then throw piss on my fucking head because you’re so goddamn insecure that the teenager you’ve been fucking for YEARS whose entire family you also fucking MURDERED didn’t MISS YOU!”</p><p>For a long moment, Tiefer didn’t say a word. And then, he laughed, his sharp teeth glinting. His very <em>very </em>sharp teeth. That were inches from his face.</p><p>Jehan felt his heart sink like a stone into his stomach.</p><p>“Oh Jehan…” He leaned in, his lips barely brushing Jehan’s. “I gotta say, it is <em>exciting</em> watchin’ you get all riled up like that, thinkin’ you’re hot shit. Makes me wanna rip open your throat while I fuck your little boy cunt ‘til it bleeds.”</p><p>“Wait–”</p><p>“In fact, I might just do that.”</p><p>“No!”</p><p>“No? You’re gonna tell me no?” Tiefer sneered and closed what little space was between them, kissing Jehan hard before shoving him onto the ground and standing over him. “You may be right – I can’t get rid of you – but I can make not only this month but the rest of your miserable fucking life a living hell if I so choose,” he said as he positioned his foot between Jehan’s legs, the heel of his boot pressing down on his crotch, “and you, my stupid little brat, you’re really helping me make that decision.”</p><p>Jehan gazed up at him from where he lay on the dirty floor, wincing at the press of Tiefer’s foot between his thighs. “I…” This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have let his anger get the better of him. He needed to salvage whatever he could. “I’m s–”</p><p>“Screwing yourself? Pretty fuckin’ badly yeah.”</p><p>“No, I’m s–”</p><p>“Stupid? Yes. Yes you are.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Jehan bit out.</p><p>“Couldn’t hear you from up here, brat. Say it again.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>Tiefer pressed down, harder. “Louder, you stupid piece of shit!”</p><p>“I’m sorry!”</p><p>“‘I’m sorry’ <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“I’m sorry sir!”</p><p>“And what are you sorry for?” Tiefer asked. Each word was punctuated by a slow grind of his boot.</p><p>“I’m sorry for not missing you–sir!” Jehan added with a pained squeak. “And I’m sorry for being a brat a-and being rude!”</p><p>“Hmm.” Tiefer stepped off of Jehan and slowly offered his hand.</p><p>Cautious, Jehan reached out and was pulled to his feet–too hard, even, until he was flush against Tiefer’s chest.</p><p>Tiefer kept his grip on Jehan. “So, how you gonna make this whole little tantrum up to me?”</p><p>“By…not doing it again?”</p><p>It had been worth a shot.</p><p>Laughing, Tiefer let Jehan go. “I don’t think that’ll cut it.” He looked Jehan up and down. “Nah, boy, I think you better get your ass into that bedroom ‘cause you might’ve wasted your dinner but I ain’t wastin’ mine.”</p><p>“You’re not gonna rip my throat open, are you?”</p><p>“Mmm, depends. How good you gonna be for me, baby?”</p><p>Jehan was silent under Tiefer’s gaze, adrenaline from his outburst beating against every bit of good sense that reminded him he needed to behave, to play the long game, to be <em>good</em>…</p><p>To play house.</p><p>Slowly, he stepped forward and, reaching out to put his arms around Tiefer’s neck, kissed his godfather, gentle and soft. His hands ghosted down Tiefer’s shoulders, his arms, stopping at his wrists as Jehan took him by the hand and lead him to the bedroom.</p><p>“Very,” he answered once they were beside the bed. Jehan stripped off what little clothing he still had on him and, turning around, sat on the bed delicately. “I’ll be very good for you,” he said, pulling Tiefer closer and adding, “Daddy.”</p><p>Tiefer’s eyes went wide and for a moment Jehan was afraid he’d gone too far and severely misjudged his godfather – at least, taste-wise – but then Tiefer composed himself, any shock quickly replaced with a snide grin and wicked gleam in his eyes as he tightened his grip on Jehan already flush against him and – oh. <em>Oh</em>.</p><p>He hadn’t misjudged at all.</p><p>“Prove it, then, my little brat.”</p><p>****************************************</p><p>“Wait–wait, stop, please–<em>parrain</em>!”</p><p>Tiefer pulled away, blood reddened lips downturned in a frown. Jehan was stripped bare beneath him, his heaving chest and throat littered in bite marks and smeared blood; Tiefer had brought his hands down along Jehan’s behind, and in response Jehan yelped as if he had been burned.</p><p>“I’m still…hurting…down there.”</p><p>Something flashed in Tiefer’s eyes – anger and insult, perhaps, at being denied.</p><p>Jehan quickly wrapped his arms around Tiefer’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss as a hot, wet apology. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised once he pulled away, breathing heavy, “if you’ll let me, <em>daddy</em>.”</p><p>Tiefer hummed something that sounded like assent enough and, much like a bored cat tolerating a favorite child moving it, allowed Jehan to roll them over until he was on his back and Jehan, naked and bloody and wincing, straddled his hips. There was drying blood on Tiefer’s lips and pinched boredom across his face, as if he was still largely put out and merely counting down the few moments of time Jehan’s slutty little whine of “daddy” had bought from him.</p><p>Reaching down, Jehan undid his godfather’s pants and gently pulled his hard cock out. He bit his lip, trying to keep his expression from turning to disgust as he spat in his hand and slowly stroked both himself and his godfather before leaning down, his hips against Tiefer’s, their cocks pressing together, hard and slick with spit and precum. It wasn’t awful, and the control was welcome (much better humping that huge cock than being split open on it) but the thought of another month like this, stinking of blood and sex in a decrepit shell of a house – the thought of a lifetime of this, living at Tiefer’s whims, having to wear a mask over his festering anger, having to play a fake role to avoid his godfather’s brutal rages, having to be a son, a friend, a lover – made his stomach turn.</p><p>The disgust must have shown on his face because Tiefer’s hands pressed heavily on his hips, keeping him still, his smaller cock trapped between Tiefer’s and his own belly.</p><p>“It must really hurt, baby, what with that face you’re makin’.”</p><p>“Oh.” Jehan sat back against Tiefer’s thighs. “Y-yeah.”</p><p>“Kinda hard to cum with you lookin’ ready to vomit all over me.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, I’ll do better, I–”</p><p>“Scoot up,” Tiefer interrupted, lazily beckoning Jehan further and gesturing towards his chest.</p><p>Jehan did as he was told, situating himself on Tiefer’s chest, knees on either side of Tiefer’s head, and letting his godfather pull him forward until his cock pressed against blood stained lips.</p><p>“Good boy.” He took Jehan into his mouth, as far into his throat as the teenager’s length allowed, his hands warm and heavy on his hips, pulling him forward.</p><p>“Parrain–”</p><p>Tiefer hummed softly – which earned a very startled jerk from Jehan – and pulled away with a soft pop. “Go ‘head, fuck my mouth,” he said before kissing the head.</p><p>“Pa–”</p><p>“Do what Daddy says, Jehan.”</p><p>Jehan blushed. Tiefer had never told him to do that before – hell, he’d actively punished him for accidentally thrusting into his mouth without permission – and God, if he hadn’t thought about what it would be like, how fucking wonderful it would be to grab his godfather by the hair, nails digging in, and to abuse his throat, make him choke and gag until he vomitted all over himself, all the while pushing his cock down, fucking him harder and harder and <em>harder</em> –</p><p>“Fuck!”</p><p>At some point he had to have done it – his vision was white, his hands were tangled in white, and white trickled down Tiefer’s chin from where it had escaped his lips, stretched around Jehan’s cock, mixing with the blood smeared on his face. Chest heaving, Jehan let go of Tiefer and fell back against him, his cock making an obscenely wet pop as he went.</p><p>Tiefer merely watched as if nothing had happened, despite his flushed cheeks, messy hair, and burning throat.</p><p>“When I said I’d make this nice for the both of us, I meant it,” he said, slowly. “An’ ain’t it nice?”</p><p>Jehan was slow to nod. “U-uh-huh…”</p><p>“You want it to keep bein’ nice?”</p><p>“Yes.” At the look Tiefer gave him, Jehan quickly amended his answer. “Yes sir.”</p><p>“Then be <em>good </em>for Daddy, Jehan,” Tiefer ordered. “Y’can start by returning the favor.”</p><p>And as Jehan leaned down and took his godfather in his mouth and felt a hand in his hair gripping tighter than it needed to be, he knew he wanted it to be nice because nice was the only way he’d be able to keep behaving, to keep being good – to find a way out – without losing his mind.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>originally posted on tumblr 28 oct 2019</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>reposted from my tumblr: the vampire au nobody asked for</p></blockquote></div></div>
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